


The King's Advisor

by clusium_kiss



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Figging, Humiliation, M/M, Rutting, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 23:24:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4806143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clusium_kiss/pseuds/clusium_kiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur has a lot to learn when it comes to being a good king, but Merlin is there to teach him, whether or not Arthur enjoys his methods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The King's Advisor

**Author's Note:**

> Repost from the kinkmeme.
> 
> To expand on the tags, Arthur never actively protests to anything that Merlin makes him do, and he believes that he needs to be punished and obey Merlin's orders, but I still tagged it as dub con given that Merlin never clearly gets Arthur's consent either.

Arthur stood in front of his chamber pot, prick cradled in his hands. His bladder was uncomfortably full—he hadn’t had a piss since after breakfast and had drunk a glass of wine during the council meeting. But he’d already misbehaved once today. Best to wait and do what he could to get back in Merlin’s good graces. 

The minutes crawled along, but finally Merlin opened the door. He looked angry, but then his face softened when he saw Arthur waiting for him. 

“That’s good, sire,” Merlin said softly. He didn’t come over to Arthur, though, but leisurely sat down to remove his boots and pour himself a cup of ale. Arthur bit back a pleading noise, but Merlin glanced at him anyway. “Control yourself, Arthur,” he said and kept a stern eye on him while loosening the laces of his tunic.

Arthur’s face flushed. He felt so exposed, standing here like this with his prick on display. But he needed to stay still. Otherwise Merlin would make him put the chamber pot away, and he would end up wetting himself. The first time it happened, he had actually cried, and the feeling of shame had lingered even as Merlin kissed him and gave him a hot bath and told him that he would help Arthur to learn how to behave. 

At last, Merlin stood up and came to him. He crowded behind Arthur, wrapping his arms around Arthur’s waist and letting his chin rest on Arthur’s shoulder. “You’re being such a good boy, sire,” he murmured, taking Arthur’s prick in his hands. Arthur let his own hands wind into the fabric of Merlin’s tunic, clenching tightly. 

“Please, may I?” he asked.

“Yes,” Merlin said, adjusting his hold on Arthur’s prick as Arthur let go, directing his piss into the chamber pot. 

Arthur moaned in relief, and Merlin rubbed a slow circle on his stomach with one hand, pressing a little on his bladder until the stream of piss slowed to a trickle and then stopped. 

“Look at your little prick,” Merlin said, petting it and rolling the foreskin with his thumb. 

Arthur wanted to protest that it wasn’t _little_ but he kept silent.

“Is it getting ready to stiffen?” Merlin continued, pumping it and pressing his own hard cock against Arthur’s arse. “Ready to enter a hot, wet cunt?” Merlin suddenly let go and gripped Arthur’s chin instead, holding him still. “You can’t control yourself, can you? What were you _thinking_ in the council meeting? Speaking out of turn like that?”

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said, hating the tremble in his voice. To his shame, his prick _was_ rising. He was nothing better than a beast, just as Merlin said.

“I’m going to have to punish you for that,” Merlin said. “Take off your clothes and get on the bed.”

Arthur did as he was ordered, stripping and then getting onto the bed. He leaned down so his elbows were resting on the bed and his arse was sticking in the air. He spread his legs a little, just as Merlin had taught him. 

“I think I’d better use the ginger tonight,” Merlin mused from the direction of the wardrobe. 

“No—” Arthur said before he could stop himself. “Please…”

“Hush,” Merlin admonished gently. “The punishment only works if you don’t like it. Otherwise, you’ll never learn. And getting spanked makes you hard, doesn’t it?” 

“Yes,” Arthur admitted, flushing with shame again. 

Merlin gave him two fingers first and then slid in the ginger plug, setting it snugly in his hole. He rubbed Arthur’s back and his arse cheeks while they waited for it to take effect, and told Arthur how a good king must always think of the consequences of his actions.

“I know you think that challenging Bayard is a good idea, but you can’t just go charging into a potential battle like that,” Merlin explained. “Perhaps in the future, but right now, our army is not strong enough.”

Merlin was right about him—he was so foolish—so impetuous. He’d put the lives of his people at risk. 

The ginger started to burn. He moved his hips a little, involuntarily, trying to get away from the sensation.

“We’ll have to tell the Council that you were wrong, won’t we?” Merlin said, grasping the ginger and moving it slowly in and out of Arthur’s hole. “Everyone will know that you’ve been a silly, disobedient little boy.” 

Arthur whimpered, tears pricking his eyes. The ginger itched and burned, flaring along with his shame and contrition. 

Merlin petted his hair. “Shhhh—just a little longer.”

Arthur’s muscles were shaking with the effort of staying still when at last Merlin took out the ginger. His hole clenched and then opened again.

Merlin pinned him with a hand on his lower back. He heard Merlin grunting, knew that he was jerking off—and then come splattered against his arse and his sore hole. 

“There,” Merlin said, breathless, and he pushed some of his come into Arthur’s hole, soothing the itching burn. Arthur pushed back against his fingers, and Merlin chuckled. “You want my cock, don’t you? Need a good fucking. But it’s too late for that, I’m afraid. Perhaps you’ll be good tomorrow, and I’ll give you a fuck after training.” 

Merlin pumped his fingers, pressing against Arthur’s prostate. “You’re getting hard, aren’t you? Let’s see.”

Arthur slowly clambered to his knees. His face was red and smeared with tears, and his prick poked out from his groin, already wet at the tip.

Merlin shook his head. “Look at you. You don’t look anything like a king. What do you look like, Arthur?”

“L-like a dog,” Arthur admitted. “Like an animal that can’t control himself.”

“That’s right.” Merlin pointed at the floor. “Well—go on. Unless you think you can manage without.”

And he should be able to—he shouldn’t need to come, to give in to his base desires. But—

Arthur got on the floor. He shuffled close to Merlin’s leg. And he started humping it, rutting his cock against the fabric, just like a dog. 

Merlin looked down at him, amused. “There’s a good boy,” he said, lightly mocking, and ruffled Arthur’s hair. 

Arthur pressed his face against Merlin’s thigh, breathing hard. He could feel Merlin’s come trickling out of him, and his cock smeared against Merlin’s trousers. He humped faster, squeezing his eyes shut, and then came, limbs jerking with his orgasm.

They stayed like that in silence for a few minutes—Arthur slumped on the floor, Merlin standing above him. Then Merlin helped him to his feet, got him cleaned up, and wrapped him in the blankets. 

“Don’t worry, sire,” he said, bending down to kiss Arthur’s forehead. “You’ll learn. I’ll make sure of it.”


End file.
